Why this?

The occasional poem of my own and a generous helping of work by others that I find inspiring. Site is named for a beloved book by one of my favorite writers, Italo Calvino, whose fanciful work lights--and delights--my soul.

Thursday, July 2, 2015

The Old Woman Leaves the Sea

I cut my hair, threw it at the desert sage.
My curl is natural; this picture is a cage.
I'm leaving it. I've had my time among
stones and water. I'm going to the garden.
I want black earth, bronze mud, yellow
daffodil, green grass. I want to ride a bicycle,
sing a cappella. I want to take the train to Rome.
I've put all my eggs in one basket. I'll get clothes
that fit. I've finished fasting. I'm definite. 

I lie back to stare at the sky. It's another day
in the life of my grief. There's water everywhere.
I'm not doing enough, just gathering stones,
sitting here by the sea. I'm not the only mother 
whose son has died. Why do I think I deserve 
to laze here after seven years? I move my leg
right, then left, against the sand, watch
for an opening between sky, water.

--Sharon Charde

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